Hello once again, my dears. I have a new chapter for you obviously. It's short and for that I apologise. I wanted to give you something to read as it's been so long since my last update. But I'll give you another chapter by Sunday to compensate, how does that sound? Also **screams hysterically** for the titular character, Harry was bloody (imagine I'm saying a much stronger intensifier there. One beginning with 'F') difficult to write. I think I got his characterisation sorted out, eventually. What are your thoughts?
Anyway TL:DR? Sunday chapter by Sunday - Harry's characterisation: Ja oder nein?
Disclaimer: It's the dead of the night. I'm running down a long sandy beach. The waves brushing against the sand gives off a calming sound which so extremely juxtaposes the danger of my situation. People are chasing me - an angry mob of 30 villagers or more. They have flamed torches and sticks. "Do you own Harry Potter?" They shout after me. "No!" I scream, "I'm M.T Linshaw! I literally own nothing!" The mob slows down. "Oh!" They exclaim as they come to a stop, "Sorry, love." They walk away and I am left on my own, slightly confused at what has just occurred.
"Yes, Professor," he said after a moment, "And I- I wanted to thank you."
For a moment, a very small moment, Severus looked confused. But as quickly as the emotion had infiltrated its way onto his face, it was gone again. Harry took a very small step forward, fixing his eyes on his professor.
"They very nearly killed you, sir. While you were watching over my relatives' house. I needed to thank you."
Seemingly gaining strength and confidence, Harry stepped forward once more, albeit slightly tentatively.
"I don't care if you start shouting, I know we're not exactly each other's favourite person. But I just needed to let you know." He continued.
Remus watched as Severus seemed to consider what he'd heard. His face did not give much away but then it rarely did in Remus' experience with the man. Harry's bravery seemed to be ebbing away by the second, by the look on his face, and his eyes seemed to wander around, unsure of where to place themselves. You see, for someone of Severus' normal demeanour – erect posture, intimidating stance, stern expression, to be lying in a hospital bed, with who knew how many wires and needles protruding from their body would most probably be entirely bizarre to witness.
"I didn't do it for you, Potter" Severus said.
Harry stalled and looked nervously from Remus to Arthur to Sirius and back again to Severus. His cheeks turned bright red and he placed his fidgeting hands behind his back.
"I know. It was for the cause. But thank you anyway."
Severus paused once again in consideration and Remus wanted to groan at how very tense and awkward this whole conversation was becoming. Finally Severus nodded tersely, which Harry returned with a hesitant nod of his own, before turning and walking towards the doors of Severus room.
Sirius, Remus noticed, was giving Severus a look. Severus narrowed his eyes at him in confusion for a second, for it was very clear to Remus that conversing with the son of your childhood nemesis was not a situation which Severus had had very much experience with in the past. Nonetheless he gathered Sirius' meaning after a while, cleared his throat and called for Harry to come back just before the lad reached his door, grimacing slightly at the pain the exertion had caused him.
Severus watched as Harry reluctantly walked back to the foot of the bed. He looked back at Sirius with an expression that seemed to ask him for help, but Sirius only returned it with a raising of the eyebrows. Severus slowly turned back to Harry and once again cleared his throat.
"I'm gratified that you came… to thank me," he said, pausing only briefly to catch his breath, "that was courteous."
Harry smiled and nodded once more and Remus was at least slightly relieved that no fist fighting had occurred. For the next few minutes Arthur told them about developments at the ministry. Apparently Cornelius Fudge was still refusing to accept Voldemort's resurrection. Not that it technically was a resurrection as he had never truly died, but it was still so idiotic of Fudge to blatantly disregard the proof that had been so clear held in front of his nose. The man was a coward.
Soon Arthur and Harry were preparing to return to Grimmauld Place.
"I hope to see you better soon, Severus." Arthur said as he put on his coat. Severus' lip twitched slightly.
"As do I" Severus replied quietly. He was tiring greatly, Remus could see it in his eyes.
Sirius saw the pair back out of the hospital and Remus turned and watched them leave. When he turned back around to Severus, he saw that the man was asleep, his chest moving rhythmically up and down. Remus found his plastic chair and sat in it gracelessly. He too was weary. He crossed his arms on the side of bed and leant his head down on top, and before Sirius had even returned, he too had left the conscious world.
Soon enough Remus' slumber was rudely interrupted by the feeling of something hitting his shoulder. He woke with a start and sat upright in his blue plastic chair. The beeping machine was sounding like an alarm and Severus was flailing in his bed, rolling from one side onto the other. His eyes were still closed and yet he was mumbling something incoherently under his breath. Remus got to his feet at once, his own heart beating erratically with fear.
"Padfoot! Wake up!" He said, leaning over the bed and shaking his friend's slumped form vigorously, "Sirius, for God's sake" he said, his voice strained from stress. Severus was writhing all over the place and had managed to tear some of the wires out of his arms in the process.
Sirius awoke slowly, "fuck," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced in discomfort. His eyes widened when he noticed the display playing out in front of him, "Fuck!" he repeated. He ran off, Remus assumed, to find a nurse or a doctor or any kind of healer – Muggle or Wizard, any would suffice so very dearly right now. Remus leaned over the flailing, bedridden man, whose bed sheets had gotten tangled up with his legs. He grabbed Severus by the arms, effectively pinning him down on the bed. What was wrong with him now? His skin was still hot to the touch, even hotter than earlier, and sweat was pouring out of him so much that it pinned his hair to his face like glue.
At Remus' touch, Severus seemed to stop moving so enthusiastically and soon he was still. He was awake now, and staring wide eyed at Remus, although Remus could not recall when the man had awoken. In silence the two stared, with both sets of eyes locked on the other for a few moments, before Remus broke the silence by querying quietly if Severus was alright. It was rather a silly question, Remus knew, and one which two weeks ago would have awarded him with a snarl and something about minding his own damn business. But now the man nodded hesitantly while continuing to stare at him with those mad eyes, full of fear and pleading.
"I'm on fire." Said Severus, his voice a low whisper.
"Your temperature is high, Severus. Don't worry, we're right here." Replied Remus.
"He's burning me. He's killing me." Severus whispered. His eyes glistened for a moment and he continued to hold Remus' stare, begging him, pleading with him. For not the first time a jumble of images seemed to drive unimaginably quickly though Remus' mind. And still Remus could not decipher any of it. It was nothing but a blur of colour and emotion, and yet the ferocity of it made it almost necessary for Remus to use all of his strength not to step back in fear.
Suddenly Sirius was back in the room with Dr Roberts in tow. Concern showed upon both of their faces. Dr Roberts walked briskly up to Severus' other side, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he went, and Remus stepped back to allow the man some room to do whatever he needed to do.
As soon as hands left Severus however, the man started to once again feverishly panic, restarting his writhing and flailing. Dr Roberts called hastily for some help as he desperately tried to calm Severus down. But it was futile. Severus was struggling to free himself from his bed, his eyes searching wildly for Remus as he did so.
"I'm going to fucking die, Lupin" he said half seated, half stood. Remus swallowed hard and looked to Padfoot, his old friend as he had so often wanted during the 12 years of his incarceration. But that was futile too. For whatever he expected to receive from Sirius – an expression of unity; a supportive hand on the shoulder; a short smile that might tell him that everything would be okay – was not there. Sirius had his back to him and was looking out of the window, his knuckles resting firmly on its sill.
Leah and the nurse who had not given them his name entered into the room to aid Dr Roberts with treating Severus and Remus was at least gladdened slightly that he was in relatively safe and capable hands because that was of the highest importance. He looked on as they gently tried to coax Severus back into a lying position on the bed and Leah pressed buttons on the beeping machine which Remus had forgotten was beeping until it had stopped completely.
But Severus continued to struggle against their hold as if his life depended on it. As weak as he was, he still managed to keep anyone who tried to get near to him at arm's length. He shouted and pleaded and begged them, although what of Remus was unsure for he wasn't entirely making sense.
After a few minutes of the futile attempts to calm him down, Dr Roberts suggested that Remus and Sirius go and get a coffee while they continued to try and treat "their brother". Remus turned to the door with one last glance at Severus before walking hesitantly to the door. He could hear Severus calling after him, asking him not to leave him, and almost stalling when he heard the name "Remus" being said. But he continued to the door regardless, assuming that Sirius was close behind him.
Luckily Sirius was close behind him, and when the two of them had passed through the doors they both breathed audible sounds of relief. They stayed standing there in silence for a moment or two, relatively unsure of what they should do next. The beeping machine in the other room had begun to erratically sound again and Remus wondered what that meant. Merlin was not favouring them in this, it would have seemed. Severus seemed to have calmed down, judging solely from the amount of noise he was currently making – which had settled down to mere occasional grunts after Dr Roberts had said to him kindly yet firmly,
"I'm going to need you to stop panicking, Severus,"
Suddenly Remus noticed that Sirius was no longer by his side. He turned half a circle on his heel and saw his friend walking briskly away from him down a long corridor. He made after him at a jog, calling his name as he went until he caught up with him near the front entrance of the hospital. Remus was confused, was Padfoot leaving? Surely not. They had a duty to see through.
"Are you leaving?" He asked his friend.
Sirius said nothing and instead reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a blue packet. He took out a white stick and asked a nearby woman if he could use her 'lighter'. He clicked it with some effort, swearing under his breath when it would not immediately light. Finally the 'lighter' did its job adequately, or so Remus believed, he wouldn't really have known either way to be honest.
Sirius returned the 'lighter', sucked on the stick and exhaled smoke, before looking back at Remus.
"I haven't had one of these in years," he said quietly, holding up the stick to view it under the glare of a nearby lamppost.
"What is it?" Remus asked.
"A cigarette. It fell out of Severus' robe when I went to move it from the bed."
"Oh" Remus said simply. He was exhausted emotionally and physically. He would contact Dumbledore again as soon as it was socially acceptable. Maybe he'd had some success. It was perhaps wishful thinking but at the moment, that was all they had.